


Courage in Pleasures

by megyal



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Community: kink_bingo, Dom/sub, Flogging, Kinks, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-04
Updated: 2010-09-04
Packaged: 2017-10-11 11:34:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/111980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megyal/pseuds/megyal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Bodily Secretions] Kakashi and Iruka work undercover at a club which caters to doms and subs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Courage in Pleasures

**Author's Note:**

> Beta (and Hand-holding services provided by): [](http://txilar.livejournal.com/profile)[**txilar**](http://txilar.livejournal.com/).
> 
> Written for [](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**kink_bingo**](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) | [my card](http://i50.tinypic.com/fxxlqu.jpg)

_i. tears_  
The tears unsettled Kakashi at first.

Iruka-sensei, playing his part as Kakashi's submissive, wept openly when he was being caned... or when Kakashi tied him up with knots that were beautiful in their complication and inserted slender, ribbed toys inside him. Iruka was brilliant in the execution of his role, as they worked undercover to find and retrieve the kidnapped son of one of the daimyo's favourite retainers. There had been reports of other missing teenagers, civilians who had posed no threat to those who had snatched them, but Konoha's shinobi had been paid for the rescue of the retainer's son. Their secondary mission, but no less important, was to find the person or persons responsible for the human-trafficking, and dispose of them.

This was their Hokage's direct order.

Kakashi hadn't cared either way that Iruka-sensei had been assigned as his partner in this two-man cell; he had perused the teacher's file three days before they departed for the town which was slyly referred to as the Hidden Village of Petals. He had placed the papers in between the leaves of his _Icha Icha_, and read as he ambled along. Iruka-sensei's file indicated that he was good at concealment and better at camouflage, able to 'assimilate well into most situations, expending very little or no chakra for disguise', according to the fourth paragraph on the second page.

_Assimilate_ was probably not the best word to describe Iruka-sensei's accomplishment. From the moment they had walked into the Fireflower Club under their guise as a rich retainer on holiday and his quiet lover, the personality known as Iruka-sensei melted away. There was no physical alteration for either of them, apart from the dye in which Kakashi washed his hair to darken the silver to black and the powder Iruka dusted across his nose and cheeks to cover his scar. However, Iruka's entire demeanour (how he held his body under Kakashi's gaze; how he looked at Kakashi with liquid trust), produced a being that was contrary to Kakashi's memory of the brash sensei who glared at him from time to time.

Kakashi had to remind himself constantly that this act was just part of their mission.

He spoke less, that was one aspect, kneeling quietly at Kakashi's feet or curled up next to him on one of the _futon_ scattered around the main lounging area of the Fireflower. The other masters cast appreciative stares at the lean, strong lines of his body, which gleamed with the fragrant oils he spread over all that sun-warmed skin. At times, Kakashi was dressed in the sumptuous robes provided by the Fireflower, while Iruka, like the other submissives, wore specially made fundoshi with a long narrow apron hanging in the front. With his legs folded under him in perfect form and his dark hair cascading over one shoulder in a loose braid, Iruka appeared absolutely delectable.

Probably too delectable. Some of the other masters had begun to approach Kakashi about his beautiful 'Akihiko-chan'.

The tears, though. The tears.

The first time Kakashi had wielded the falls against him, allowing the many tails to sting across the skin of his bared buttocks, Iruka had cried. Iruka himself had suggested a safe-word; they had agreed on _'raijin'_ the night before, and Kakashi was sure Iruka would use it from the way his body shook with stifled sobs. There were appreciative murmurs at the artful manner in which Kakashi handled the falls, wrist flicking with tight precision and not a single laceration created. However, Iruka did not utter the word as the strips of deerskin whipped across his reddening skin. Kakashi had walked around the table across which Iruka was stretched, feet planted on the ground while his hands gripped the opposite end. Kakashi twirled the light whip in his fingers to tuck the handle under Iruka's chin and tip his face up.

Even though tears streamed down and his eyes were closed tightly, Iruka didn't look wrecked or unhappy. He appeared _overwhelmed_; that look on his face was like a hammer-strike to Kakashi's chest and groin. He had no defence against such a complete triumph.

"Akihiko-chan," Kakashi said, curling Iruka's undercover name around his tongue like a savoury promise. "Are these tears for me? Or for yourself?"

Iruka shuddered, and when he answered, it was in a hoarse voice that was eerily calm and slightly distant, as if it was coming from miles away.

"You, Chokichi-sama."

"Me? Tell me why." Kakashi bent forward and licked one side of his jaw. He had had no intention of doing that, but they were there for the tasting, _his tears_ and Akihiko-chan was _all his_.

"Because," Iruka said, tilting his face up more so that Kakashi could slide his tongue down his neck, "I am undone by you completely, Chokichi-sama."

Kakashi barely heard the quiet applause. He had straightened and stared down at his damp lashes, realizing only a few moments later that he had cupped Iruka's jaw with his free hand, reveling in the dampness against his palm.

Later, at the house they had rented at the edge of this bright city of blind pleasures, Kakashi offered to rub the healing cream for Iruka. All the temporary servants had departed for the day, and the chakra-seals they had placed in a tight net over the walls remained undisturbed. Therefore, no one was around to see the surprised expression on Iruka's face before he dipped at the waist in a quick bow, his yukata folded over his arm.

"I'm quite fine, Kakashi-taicho, I can manage," he said. A tiny frown weighed down the corners of his mouth, and he spared one quick glance over his shoulder as he made his way to the bathroom.

_ii. sweat_  
"Next."

At Kakashi's command, Iruka melted out of the pose he had been holding for so long; the leg which had been stretched out horizontally was pulled in to his chest, the other which had been supporting his entire weight bent slowly at the knee and he sank to the ground like a broken stalk of rice, adjusting his legs so that he ended up sitting in the lotus position on the floor. Kakashi walked behind him, pressing his knees against Iruka's back and using his carved cane to tap along the line of Iruka's shoulders. Sweat beaded on Iruka's skin, dampening through the cloth of Kakashi's robe; Iruka sat firm against Kakashi's prodding.

"Next." Kakashi moved back, watching Iruka's legs shift out of their tucked-in position. He was dressed simply in trouser portion of _hakama_ today and the whisper of the material was loud, even though the room was full of masters and submissives. They were on the stage where sexual acts were performed nightly, but it was only afternoon now; soft golden light cascaded from the high windows and caressed Iruka's damp skin. He reached up and over with his arms, curving backwards to place his palms flat on the floor behind his head. Iruka arched up like a bridge, leg and arms anchored to the floor and not a single tremble in his strong body.

"Next."

One leg over, one arm over, _hakama_ whispering like leaves in a secret garden; one leg sweeping in a large circle and arms moving with such slow control, body twisting to stand up in a defensive pose. His expression was calm and expectant, and Kakashi felt a rush of pride that this man, gleaming from his exertion but not even breathing hard as yet, _this man_ belonged to him and he belonged to Iruka.

_this is only a mission_

Kakashi snapped his gaze away, fighting the urge to go over to Iruka and rub his hands along the slick, gleaming muscle. A few of the other submissives were frowning at Iruka, obviously jealous. It was a unfair advantage, really, because moves like this were simply practice for trained shinobi, child's play; they had not even pushed any limits when they had been practicing last night. The other masters were eying Iruka with deep interest, especially...

...yes, that one. Iruka's stare shifted for a microsecond to Kakashi's right,where a man called Katsutoshi reclined his bulk against delicately embroidered pillows near the edge of the stage. From the other submissive partners, Iruka had discovered that he had a penchant for the young, and brought them into the Fireflower on what seemed to be a monthly basis, before 'gifting' them to unscrupulous visitors to the club who were willing to pay the price. As far as Kakashi could see, most of the master-submissive pairs seemed to be of a stable, willing nature. Only Katsutoshi, with his ragged smile, was without a partner at the moment and Kakashi's instincts had long drawn large suspicious arrows, all pointing to him. The retainer's son was probably close, being broken down by loneliness and fright until Katsutoshi saw it fit to bring him to the Fireflower to cringe at every move Katsutoshi made, until he was passed off to a stranger dropping into the Fireflower.

The dominant clients did not like Katsutoshi's use of the Fireflower in such a manner, and neither did their partners; they whispered this to Iruka, who related this Kakashi as he made his report. Another master had tried to confront Katsutoshi, long ago, but he had been killed a few days after, leaving his stunned sub quite alone. Iruka said that she currently worked in the kitchens of the club, the owner trying his best to protect her from Katsutoshi.

"Your Akihiko is simply astounding, Chokichi-san," Katsutoshi called out. Kakashi turned to him and inclined his head in acknowledgement. "I would speak to you about him."

"Ah, but you haven't seen the best part yet," Kakashi said with what he hoped was a mysterious smile curling at his exposed lips. After years of wearing the mask, it was hard for him to gauge his expressions at times like this. "Akihiko!" he shouted, voice like a whip-crack.

Iruka dropped his defensive pose immediately. Kakashi snatched up his cane and twisted it near one end, pulling it apart to slide out a hidden sword. He threw it just as Iruka lunged forward, and he snatched it out of the air by the handle as it shot past him. Twisting in mid-step, he brought the edge of the sword so close to Kakashi's neck that he swore he felt a single hair split in two. Iruka pulled back and grasped the hilt of the sword in both hands.

Kakashi smiled.

"Continue."

Iruka whirled around him with the bright blade, sweeping it dangerously close to Kakashi's body in quick feints. Completely relaxed, Kakashi turned with him as Iruka described an arc with Kakashi as the focal point. The reflections of the blade scattered around the room like silver butterflies; their favourite nectar seemed to be the droplets of sweat now streaming down Iruka's arms and chest. The watching crowd gasped as Iruka brought the sword down with what seemed to be all his might and let it come to a standstill in front of Kakashi's nose; Kakashi gazed past the nearly invisible edge, right into Iruka's face.

"That is all."

The sword shifted away, and Iruka offered it to him with a deep bow. Kakashi retrieved it and placed it in its disguised scabbard, resting his hand on one of Iruka's shoulders; his fingers skidded down the slope of skin and muscle. Sweat, spent for Kakashi. He wanted to taste it.

Katsutoshi was applauding with the rest of the Fireflower's guests; he lumbered to his feet and stepped up to the platform, narrow hands still clapping. Iruka stepped behind Kakashi, who reached back to grip one of his hands and pull Iruka against his back. Iruka was panting now, breath falling in hot measures against Kakashi's neck.

"He is beautiful," Katsutoshi said, "A bit old for me, but so well-trained."

"It is because he wishes it to be so," Kakashi said. "He trains me as much as I train him."

Katsutoshi laughed. "How interesting, Chokichi-san." He wasn't even looking at Kakashi as he spoke, but at Iruka, who placed his forehead against the top of Kakashi's spine in a coy move, hiding his face. His damp skin slid against Kakashi's; the feeling made him want to turn around to take Iruka right there in front of everyone.

"You may find that someone may see fit to part with much coin for him," Katsutoshi continued. "Can he be trained to protect someone else and still cater to their needs?"

Inside, Kakashi burned at his words, because their cover was still intact. His _own_ needs weren't taken care of at all, for he and Iruka kept separate rooms in the house. However, he smiled as Iruka's sweat swooned in droplets down the back of his neck.

"He can."

_iii. semen_  
Iruka's body was probably so hot and tight inside, but Kakashi didn't want to enter him as yet...no, not yet, didn't _need_ to. This was enough. The other patrons of Fireflower sat around them, touching and being touched by their partners. Right in front of them Katsutoshi sat and stared, hungrily.

The retainer's son was clamped close to his side with one sinewy arm.

Kakashi had agreed to exchange the boy for Iruka, and train him the way Akihiko-kun had been trained; they had both agreed on a price and mayhap they would increase his value in the future, in another sale. Katsutoshi had come into the Fireflower flanked with two large men, who appeared to be missing-nin. These nin were seated behind him, but they appeared distracted by what was going on around them and on the carpet-covered stage. As well they should be; Iruka and Kakashi had discussed this last night, what they were doing now, and in great detail. Kakashi had discovered that while Iruka's blush fought to show itself (and to see it was a comfort, in its own way), Iruka spoke with determined calm.

The boy kept his face turned away as Kakashi gripped at Iruka's hips, thumbs digging into the flesh of his bottom and kneading the cheeks apart, so that his slickened hole winked invitingly up at Kakashi. He couldn't wait. He rubbed his prick in the cleft, and Iruka moaned softly, reaching down to stroke at his own cock. The noises and scent of sex rose around them and still Katsutoshi watched.

Kakashi bent over him, placing his lips near Iruka's ear.

"Grab the boy."

Iruka nodded but arched his back; he turned his face so that their lips slid messily against each other. "You can come first. Come on me."

Kakashi groaned and Iruka stopped pulling at his prick to reach his arm back and over, grabbing Kakashi around the neck. His balls slapped against Iruka's, and the eye-patch felt suddenly very scratchy over the Sharigan, annoying...but he couldn't stop now, couldn't stop twitching fitfully, watching his prick jerk as well, spurting and spitting pale streaks of come all over Iruka's lower back. He grabbed one of Iruka's hands and pulled it back to rub the darker fingers in his come. Without hesitation, Iruka smeared it into his skin, shuddering as he came as well. Kakashi wormed his other hand in between Iruka's legs, needing the feel the hot stickiness spill over his hand.

They were panting when Kakashi sat back, dragging Iruka to sit with him. Katsutoshi released the boy and stood up, reaching forward to touch Iruka's shoulder.

_not for you_, Kakashi thought, pulling up his black eye-patch. At that signal, Iruka was out of his lap in a flash, dealing a knife-strike to the nearest bodyguard's neck with the side of his palm. The man choked and tumbled back, but Iruka had leaped past him, grabbing the retainer's son bodily and throwing him out of the way. Another master caught him, placing him behind a pile of pillows.

_never for you_, and it was that thought which seemed to drive Kakashi as he drew the sword from its cleverly-made scabbard and drove it into Katsutoshi's chest.

The man appeared stunned, as if he could not believe this had happened to _him_, of all people and Iruka was snapping the necks of his bodyguards before Katsutoshi's body hit the floor of the stage. The other patrons scrambled back, gazing up at them, but Kakashi and Iruka were staring at each other. Kakashi wondered, distantly, if he could use his Sharingan to see the patterns his come had made in Iruka's back, marking him forever. Iruka took a step towards him, then stopped.

"Akihiko," Kakashi murmured and then went cold inside. A wave of what seemed to be intense pain flickered across Iruka's expression. He swallowed and looked away, before kneeling down to retrieve their robes. He tossed Kakashi's at him and was turning away before Kakashi even caught it properly.

"Good work," he said to Iruka's back (with traces of Kakashi stained into the skin). Iruka nodded, heading for the frightened but safe retainer's son as he slipped on his robe.

"Thank you, jounin-taicho," Iruka said, and even though Kakashi expected tears, _needed_ them, there were none.


End file.
